


We need the thunder

by liionne



Category: Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 23:01:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim is afraid of hurricanes, so Bones takes care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We need the thunder

**Author's Note:**

> I swear, one day I will write Jim taking care of Bones. And also this is pre-slash. I may well come back and right the slash who the hell knows. The title is from the quote: "It is not light that we need, but fire; it is not the gentle shower, but thunder. We need the storm, the whirlwind, and the earthquake." from Frederick Douglass

Jim wasn’t afraid of many things. He was afraid of his past, of his step-father, of losing the few friends he did have - and he was also afraid of thunderstorms. Well, not thunderstorms. In fact, he loved those. On a rainy San Franciscan afternoon, Bones had often came home to find him perched at the window, peeking out like a little kid, grin plastered across his face as lightning lit up the darkened room. Jim loved thunderstorms.

He did not, however, love hurricanes.

The Academy Campus was made up of several large buildings, and most of the lecture halls were huge rooms with lots of rows of lots of seats, high ceilings, a big floor space and no windows. So it was no wonder that during his Xenolinguistics class, Jim didn’t hear the rain that began to patter on the roof and the thunder crackle overhead.

His lecturer was half way through explaining the subtle differences between the Romulan dialects when his PADD buzzed.

“Excuse me,” He paused to read the message, and pursed his lips. He definitely wasn’t happy. He looked back up at the students and said, “We have a severe Hurricane warning. Classes are thus cancelled for the rest of today. You’ll be updated about tomorrow’s classes in the evening.”

Jim heard the word ‘hurricane’ and felt his blood run cold.

He was already packing his things before his lecturer had even finished, and was half way down the stairs when he called “Class dismissed”.

He was about to stumble home in a fit of blind terror when he smacked into a chest that he knew could only ever belong to Bones - he’d smacked into it several times before, and would know that level of solidity anywhere.

“Bones?” He looked up at him with big blue eyes, looking more like something from a Disney movie than real life. He couldn’t believe he was here, dripping into the carpet, obviously waiting to make sure he was alright. He’d had class on the other side of the Academy, a good ten minutes away. He was breathing heavy too; must have ran.

Leonard just rolled his eyes, put an arm around his shoulders and said, “Let’s get you home.”

The last time they’d had a severe weather warning was in first year, and Bones had come home from his shift at the hospital to find all the curtains drawn, every TV and PADD in the place blaring to drown the noise out and the lights on 100% in every room. He’d then found Jim curled up into a ball in the space between the wall and his bed, his hands trembling and his eyes red, and he’d spent the entire night crouched down beside him, letting him sniffle into his shoulder as his spine was slowly deformed. He’d known from then on that Jim did not like hurricanes, not one bit, and he should treat him like a small child whenever one presented itself.

Their dorm was the closest block to campus, and thank God - Jim was close to tears by the time they got under shelter and staggered into the turbolift. Bones was practically holding him up.

They were both soaking now, droplets sliding down their faces and soaking through their hair and turning their uniforms from red to burgundy. Jim was shivering a little as thunder racked the sky, and wind rattled the windows.

“You need to get changed, Jim.” Bones prompted him when he did nothing but grip the back of a kitchen chair with white knuckles and grin skin. Bones was already moving off into the bedroom.

“Don’t leave me, Bones.” The words tumbled from his mouth, and he blinked, as if he hadn’t been expecting them.

Bones said nothing, but held his hand out to him. Jim took it, gripping it tightly, allowing himself to be led into the bedroom.

He waited in the doorway until Bones closed the curtains.

He shakily took off his jacket, leaving it at the foot of the bed, and then worked on pulling off the turtleneck beneath it. His fingers felt cold, numb, and he struggled for a while before he heard Bones sigh. “Come here.”

He turned to find Bones stood behind him, wearing those faded jeans with the holes in the knees and the t-shirt that was coming away at the seams. He dropped his hands to his sides, and let him pull his jumper over his head, and helped him into a t-shirt.

“Do I need to take your pants off for you too?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jim swallowed, and shook his head. “No.”

Bones nodded, grabbed Jim’s sopping wet clothes, and turned away. “I’m just going into the bathroom, alright? I’ll be two minutes.”

“Okay.”

Two minutes sounded like an eternity. Any length of time where Bones was out of his sight was going to be an eternity in this damn storm, and Jim was using deep breaths to keep from crying. He wriggled out of the slightly too small pants and into a pair of sweats.

He went into the bathroom and held them out to Bones, who hung them over the railing of the shower. The showerhead was rattling; Jim had to leave before he threw up.

“If you go sit down somewhere I’ll be there in a second.” Bones told him. “I’m just gonna go get something to eat.”

Jim gave a shaky nod, and tucked himself back into that little spot between his bed and the wall, his knees pulled up to his chest and head resting between them. _Deep breaths_ , he kept reminding himself. _Deep breaths._

Bones wasn’t gone for long, but as Jim had expected, it felt like a lifetime. He returned with pop tarts and coffee, but Jim didn’t feel like eating.

“Damn it kid, are you trying to ruin my posture?” He muttered, as he folded himself into the space beside Jim, as close to him as he could be, and tucked his arm around his shoulders.

Jim sniffled. “You don’t have to do this.” he told him, but he was already leaning into the embrace.

“What, and deal with your whining?” Bones took a sip of coffee and placed it on the bedside table. “I’d rather disfigure my spine, thank you.”

“Glad to know you care about me so much.” Jim muttered into his chest.

His voice was muffled by the poptart he raised to his mouth, but Jim was pretty sure he said something along the lines of, “More than you know.”

He snuggled further into Bones shirt.

Bones had switched every electrical appliance in the dorm on which was certainly a good idea in Jim‘s books. He was glad for the noise from the PADDs and the old fashioned TV and the radio he‘d found in the loft in Iowa. It greatly drowned out the sound of the rain beating against the windows and the wind shaking the building and the thunder cracking overhead that threatened to turn his bones to jelly and bring the contents of his stomach back up.

That was until the electricity went off.

“Shit.” Bones muttered, as Jim looked up at the ceiling, eyes wide and terrified. “Wait here.”

“Bones don’t leave me-” Jim began weakly, but he was already gone, popping out his back as he walked to the front door.

Jim really did begin to shake then, with the noise from the PADDs too soft to muffle the sound of the storm and the lights now gone for good. He covered his mouth with his hand, but whether it was to keep from screaming or throwing up, he wasn’t sure.

Bones returned, shaking his head and muttering about shit wiring. He sunk back down beside Jim and pulled him closer to him. “Whole building’s lost power. They’re working on it.” He told him.

Jim just shook.

“Aw, kid,” Bones murmured. He wrapped his other arm around Jim, and somehow Jim ended up in his lap. Not that either of them were complaining. He whispered little things in his ears, little assurances that were meant to make him feel better but didn’t. Things about being fine, about getting through it, about it not even mattering.

But it did matter. It mattered a lot.

Jim pressed himself closer to Bones, almost trying to worm his way under his skin, where he was sure he would be safe.

“Kid, look at me.” Bones murmured. Jim kept his face buried in his neck. “Jim.”

He did look up then, but only because his tone suggested he should not be argued with. He raised big blue bambi eyes to blink at him, terror evident in his wide, dark pupils.

And then, because Bones wasn’t sure what else to do, he kissed him.

It seemed to be the best thing he could have done to take the younger man’s mind off of the storm that raged outside. Slowly Jim began to unfurl from the small, tight ball he’d became in Bones’ lap, and he craned his neck up to kiss him harder, straightened his back in order to reach his lips better, retracted the claws his fingers had became from the dirty white t-shirt to wrap them in his still-damp hair. The hurricane didn’t matter anymore, because Bones’ lips were on his in a firm open-mouth kiss, and maybe their tongues did bump together and their teeth did clash but it didn’t matter, nothing mattered, and though Jim certainly couldn’t say he was relaxed he definitely wasn’t terrified anymore.

He pulled away with swollen lips and heavy breathing. He looked at Bones, lips bright red from the pressure and his pupils a little wider than before. It would have been cute if Jim couldn’t feel him half hard beneath the denim.

“I think I’ve found the perfect hurricane distraction.” He smirked, as he pressed his lips to Bones again.

Bones would have argued, but he was so, _so_ right.

**Author's Note:**

> This was kinda inspired by this, too: http://meekobits.tumblr.com/post/55892985054/and-we-have-tornado-warnings-here-goes-to


End file.
